Chapter 318: Things Are Not as They Were

The Qian family disciples looked terrified, but Mo Hua remained calm.

He had Foundation Establishment spiritual awareness, a concealment technique, and the Step of Fading Water; facing ordinary Qi Condensation cultivators, he could advance or retreat at will—he was already invincible.

Not to mention he also had spells and arrays.

The man he was now was no longer the petty arrayist who knew no martial arts, practiced no spells, and could barely escape.

So when Qian Xing provoked him, he didn't even need to call for help—he could handle it himself.

Just a few Qian family scum who bullied the weak and cowered before the strong.

They weren't murderous cultivators of evil, nor bloody heretical cultivators; there was no coordination between them, no order in their attacks—it was easy to deal with.

Moreover, Mo Hua wanted to test the power of his Fireball Spell.

Since learning it, he had never used it in actual combat.

Now that he had tried it, the power was quite impressive.

"It's not about absorbing spiritual power, draining blood, or using sexual cultivation…"

"Don't the Qian family cultivators practice any strange cultivation techniques?"

No pale blue chains had wrapped around me to bind me completely; Mo Hua flashed forward several times and arrived behind me.

Since the question had been asked, Mo Hua could only release Qian Xing and threaten him:

"Is there any Qian family cultivator who doesn't look like a Qian family member?"

Qian Xing dared not meet Mo Hua's eyes, glancing left and right, muttering only "no," even when Mo Hua threatened to kill him, he still dared not say a word.

Mo Hua had activated the array, so the staff's impact was great, but it only hurt a little.

Mid-question, Mo Hua suddenly realized this question was pointless.

Mo Hua raised his hand, fingers together, and ended the Fireball Spell.

"He didn't say who was bound, but he must tell me what beast was fed."

Mo Hua held the Thousand-Jun Staff, studying Shu Xin, lost in thought.

Qian Xing's face lit up with relief—he hadn't expected Mo Hua would actually spare him.

Mo Hua's gaze hardened slightly: "Who is feeding people to the beast?"

Today they followed Qian Xing to bully this lowly cultivator; tomorrow they might go anywhere to commit atrocities.

But these Qian family disciples weren't good people either.

Mo Hua was about to speak, then suddenly frowned, pulled out the Thousand-Jun Staff, and swung it with "force as heavy as a thousand jun."

The Qian family does good deeds every day.

Want to close in? Can't get near! Want to flee? Can't escape!

Bullying others with power, blustering but cowardly, yet himself a complete fool.

But Mo Hua reconsidered—this Fireball Spell shouldn't be this powerful.

Mo Hua hurriedly said: "It wasn't one, but a fat, huge, dumb, stupid pig, covered in bloodstains…"

"What are you laughing at? Watch your attitude!"

How could that be possible?

We are the Qian family—when have we ever endured such humiliation?

Mo Hua's certainty grew, his gaze sharpening: "You've seen Qian family members do this!"

Fireballs flew, cries rose in succession, Qian family disciples fell one after another.

Mo Hua, that tall ghost, stood motionless, merely raised his hands a few times, released a few Fireball Spells—and all the cultivators he brought collapsed.

But his nervous demeanor was clearly an attempt to hide the truth.

Mo Hua asked again: "Has your Qian family done any good deeds…"

In an instant, only Shu Xin remained of the Qian family.

Qian Xing stammered for a long time, unable to speak.

The more my father forbade me to provoke Mo Hua, the more I wanted to kill him to vent my hatred.

Qian Xing explained earnestly: "Their appearance might be hard to distinguish, but if they're not Qian family, not long-term residents of the Qian household, or their conduct doesn't conform to family rules, you can tell—outsiders, even dressed in Qian family robes, every movement betrays their foreignness…"

Mo Hua couldn't get an answer, then his thoughts shifted, and he pressed further:

After a long hesitation, fear of death and spiritual dissolution finally overcame him; his voice trembled:

That tall ghost, whom I had been choking by the neck, could now manipulate me entirely by himself!

Qian Xing's expression was stunned, his eyes filled with horror:

"The Qian family rules forbid practicing heretical arts; violators are erased from the family genealogy, stripped of their surname, and banished forever."

Mo Hua's gaze darkened slightly: "When you first came to trouble me, didn't you say you'd take me down the mountain to feed the beast?"

That didn't quell my thoughts—it only deepened my hatred.

Mo Hua sighed inwardly; it seemed he wouldn't get any answers.

Qian Xing's madness seemed better, yet not fully cured—he still had delusions; the terror from his dreams lingered in his mind, sometimes blurring reality.

He had been mad for only one or two years, then woke up to find Mo Hua utterly unrecognizable from the man he once knew.

Qian Xing was running desperately, but as he ran, he suddenly realized he couldn't move.

Mo Hua froze in surprise.

He didn't want to kill anyone, to avoid trouble for Zhang Lan or himself.

Those who understood too late tried to flee but were too slow—directly struck by fireballs, they collapsed unconscious;

By the time he struggled to rise, he realized Mo Hua had already silently stood before him.

Although he hadn't originally intended to kill Qian Xing—only to scare him and ask some questions.

Mo Hua was puzzled; this didn't quite match what the Qian family would do…

That staff struck below Qian Xing's arm, shattering my upper arm and knocking the talisman from my grip.

"Ask him the very first question…"

Shu Xin said: "As long as there's no blood relation or familial tie, it's fine—though treatment may be poor; all are classified as branch lineages."

Mo Hua looked at Qian Xing in confusion. "Did your father tell you not to provoke him?"

It would be strange if he didn't do something wrong.

That Qian family fool, at Qi Condensation Ninth Layer, must've lost his mind—he didn't dodge or evade, even took the special Fireball Technique straight to the chest, and collapsed directly from severe injury.

Mo Hua's eyes flashed with sharp light. "What pig?"

Mo Hua thought for a moment and asked: "Can anyone from your Qian family leave?"

Desperate for a last stand, he charged at Mo Hua—but his movement was clearly too slow compared to Mo Hua's strike; he was hit square in the face by the Fireball Technique and fell in a pitiful heap.

"Have you ever done something like that before?"

I don't believe it!

And I couldn't beat Mo Hua myself, the disciples I called couldn't beat Mo Hua, and all my petty tricks were seen through at a glance by Mo Hua.

Mo Hua then asked a few more indirect questions, and Qian Xing answered them all truthfully—it seemed he hadn't lied.

"Just take me to the foot of the mountain… let the beasts eat my flesh bit by bit… let me die happy…"

How could the Qian family produce such a waste?

Yet Mo Hua still gained nothing—it proved the heretic had entered the Qian family, and also proved Qian family members had entered Great Baishan Shanzhai.

My father told me.

That made Shu Xin find it utterly unbelievable.

"Really?"

Even the first thing he did upon waking was to be warned by my father:

"How did he know?!"

"Have you seen anyone familiar within the family?" Mo Hua asked again.

Qian Xing clenched his teeth and nodded. "Fine!"

Qian Xing struggled forward, ignoring the pain of his broken arm, muttering: "Don't come near me!"

Because I really did provoke him…

Mo Hua, slightly surprised, asked: "Did anyone else in the Qian family do this?"

Moreover, the Qian family aren't beast hunters—they kill people, but feeding humans to beasts doesn't seem to be their way.

Shu Xin screamed and fell to the ground, crawling frantically on hands and feet but couldn't rise.

But this could still be a cover to evade the Dao Court's ban—what's done openly, at least; what happens behind the scenes, no one knows.

Shu Xin blinked in surprise. "Strange cultivation art?"

Shu Xin truly doesn't treat people as people.

Shu Xin stood frozen, dumbfounded, as if he were trapped in a nightmare.

"No… it was a pig."

Mo Hua regarded him carefully. "You just said you couldn't possibly know everyone in the Qian family—how are you so certain there are no outsiders?"

Especially that innocent smile with a hint of malice—whenever Qian Xing recalled it, a chill ran through him.

Qian Xing's heart turned cold—he finally remembered: his life now rested in Mo Hua's hands; only Mo Hua had the right to ask him questions, and he had no right to ask anything in return.

This place was remote, devoid of any witnesses—convenient for Mo Hua to strike, but now it was equally convenient for Mo Hua to strike him.

He'd already run far away, but Mo Hua trapped him with a Water Prison Technique, then struck him with a Fireball Technique, knocking him flat.

Qian Xing frowned. "Why are you asking that?"

That great demon Mo Hua—when did he become so terrifying?!

Don't provoke Mo Hua!

Worse still, my father, Qian family patriarch Qian Hong, didn't seek justice for me—he warned me not to cause trouble.

"I'll spare you this time—if you provoke me again, watch your life!"

"There are many in the Qian family—I can't possibly know them all."

If Qian Xing is truthful, and the Qian family has many outsiders, then the heretic must have entered—though openly, there's no sign of it.

Qian Xing's face turned instantly pale, and he threatened fiercely: "I'm the Qian family's legitimate son—you can't kill me!"

Before the Qian disciples even understood what happened, they were felled again by Mo Hua's Fireball Technique;

Qian Xing grew furious, his face flushing red then purple.

He doesn't just treat outsiders as less than human—even Qian family disciples, he doesn't treat as people.

Shu Xin's pupils dilated violently, sinking into deep self-loathing.

Qian Xing stammered nervously: "I—I didn't!"

Mo Hua nodded slightly, quite satisfied.

Qian Xing's expression changed drastically.

In a daze, Qian Xing looked up and saw Mo Hua smiling at him from afar.

Qian Xing's expression turned blank—he dared not name anyone, but feared saying anything at all, lest Mo Hua truly take his life.

Qian Xing's expression shifted, but he still gritted his teeth and said: "No!"

Shu Xin laughed coldly. "Even if I didn't know, I know these are heretical arts—strictly forbidden by the Dao Court—how could the Qian family learn them?"

Shu Xin's tone was dripping with sarcasm.

Qian Xing's heart gave a slight jolt; he shook his head, but his eyes darted away.

Mo Hua's expression remained unchanged, though inwardly he felt a trace of regret.

Mo Hua looked at Shu Xin with a half-smile.

Mo Hua glanced at Shu Xin warmly, "He's asking you?"

Mo Hua frowned.

"Are you still insane? Are you still delusional? What you just saw was only an illusion?"

Mo Hua shook his head at Qian Xing's back.

"Is the one behind your eyes not Mo Hua, but a demon wearing human skin?"

I am a direct descendant of the Qian family; my father is the head of the Qian family. In that stretch of land in Xiancheng, I've always done whatever I wanted.

Those disciples served me, and now they've suffered severe injury and collapsed. I won't even look at them—only think of saving myself.

Qian Xing nodded hastily, ignoring his own injuries and the Qian disciples lying on the ground, alive or dead, and ran off toward Xiancheng alone.

Mo Hua's expression was impossible to fathom; Mo Hua's methods filled me with dread.

What just happened?

Qian Xing muttered bitterly, "No."

Branch-line members are barely even cultivators on the fringes of the family.

Even if you don't kill him, a few lessons won't hurt.

Shu Xin bit her lip again, clearly unwilling to accept it, but her tone grew considerably more respectful, and she spoke meekly:

Qian Xing gritted his teeth, enduring the pain, sweat pouring from his forehead, his voice trembling: "He's… Mo Hua?"

Only now did Qian Xing finally understand why his father told him not to provoke Mo Hua.

"What outsider?"

Mo Hua felt a pang of reflection, then suddenly remembered the words Qian Xing had once snarled at him:

But then again, Qian Xing may be a direct descendant, but he's still a spoiled brat. Even if the Qian family had ties to Great Baishan, they wouldn't have told Qian Xing about it.

That smile was innocent and bright, yet carried a hint of malice—so innocent it was terrifying.

Qian Xing hesitated, "No."

Great Baishan is dangerous; Qian Xing doesn't look like someone who'd dare enter Great Baishan.

Now, time and again, I've been humiliated by a lowborn cultivator.

Mo Hua feigned a cheerful expression: "I'll ask you a few questions. Answer honestly, and I won't kill you."

"Play those childish tricks in front of me?"

Mo Hua held back and didn't take his life.

"He's not from the Qian family."

Mo Hua struck him on the head with a club, displeased:

Qian Xing shouted angrily, "You said you'd let me go!"

His spells dissolved slowly, his movements were slow, but within moments, fireball after fireball shot out with a hiss.

Qian Xing cried out, voice trembling: "Don't come closer! Don't eat me!"